


the sweetest storm

by alovelikeher



Series: Arya x Gendry Week '19 [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Post-Finale, axgweek, giving my kids the happy ending they deserved, set five years post finale, super self indulgent tbh, with a brief appearance from dadvos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 05:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20222413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alovelikeher/pseuds/alovelikeher
Summary: Five years after sailing West of Westeros, Arya finds herself in Storm's End, with an important question to ask.





	the sweetest storm

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 2 of Arya x Gendry Week 2019. Prompt: Marry Me Now

It had been five years since she left Westeros. Five years since she slayed the Night King, since Jon was banished beyond the wall, since her brother was elected King of the Six Kingdoms and her sister crowned Queen in the North. 

She’d seen sights beyond her wildest dreams, met people unlike anyone she’d ever met before, experienced things she never even knew existed. Now, the world seemed so much bigger than before. No longer was she confined by the simplistic views of the Lords and Ladies of Westeros. No longer was she stuck playing their silly little games, or living by the standards they’d set, or fighting for her life at every turn.

It was different now, the world Arya Stark lived in. She had her own form of power, her own set of rules and her own destiny to fulfill. Her life was her own and nobody could take that from her. 

Five years of discovering the world and discovering herself as a result. She remembered who she was before - before her father and her mother were taken from her, before the Night came to Winterfell, and the dragons came to King’s Landing. She knew who she was now and who she wanted to be another five years from now. She felt like she’d found her peace, finally. As far as she knew, Westeros had found peace too.

Now, she was finally on her way back home. 

It was in Essos, where she was planning on sailing back to King’s Landing, when something changed. It was the plan she informed Sansa of in the last raven she’d sent just a day ago. But then she heard of a ship bound for the Stormlands. She couldn’t ignore the way her heart almost stopped in her chest when she realised how close she was to him.

The Stark vessel headed for King’s Landing as planned. Arya wasn’t on board.

* * *

Storm’s End earned its’ reputation.

When she arrived, the hail was falling harshly from the sky, the strong wind inescapable, and the thunder deafening. 

Arya sought shelter at the first inn she stumbled across. 

She knew she could go straight to him, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t admit it, not even to herself, probably never to him, but she was scared of what she would find. It had been so long since she last saw him. Would he even care to see her?

Of course he will, she thought to herself. He’d never turn you away.

More than anything, she just wanted to know that he was alright. The last time they properly spoke, he’d confessed his love for her and asked her to be his wife. She broke his heart in two that day. When they next saw each other at King’s Landing, it was at the council meeting. They didn’t get a chance to speak then and neither of them fought to initiate a conversation before they went their separate ways. 

They never said goodbye.

Arya had spent many lonely nights wondering if he regretted that as much as she did.

She was tucked away in the corner of the inn, sipping on her ale, when her attention was drawn to two young women approaching the table opposite her. 

“I don’t know whether I believe it,” one of the girls said as she sat. She didn’t appear much younger than Arya herself, but she was much taller with her golden hair in a braid that fell down her back. Her friend seemed a bit younger again, with her slightly darker hair styled the same way. From their almost identical attire, Arya immediately assumed they were tavern girls or maids. 

“I didn’t at first - you know they say he’s refused to marry ever since he became a Lord,” the other girl responded. “This Lady of his must be a true beauty to change his mind.”

“So you think it’s true then?” 

“Some of the girls were cleaning in the dining hall this morning,” the girl nodded. “Heard his advisors organising the arrival of Lord Baratheon’s betrothed.”

Arya’s heart sunk. He was… he was getting married. Gendry was getting married.

It wasn’t as if there was another Lord Baratheon for it to be. He was the only one now, the head of his house, the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. 

Of course he would get married; it had been five years since their last meeting, she had been a fool to think…

She didn’t know what she had thought. She didn’t know why she had come here to him instead of back to her family. She suddenly felt very, very stupid. This wasn’t some silly song Sansa would sing as a child, still an innocent so hopeful of pure true love. 

This was the real world. 

He was a Lord now and a Lord needed heirs. If anything, the fact it had taken this long for a betrothal should have been surprising. 

She didn’t stick around for the rest of the conversation, instead heading up to her room for the night. 

Even as she lay in bed hours later, she couldn’t stop thinking about what to do. Now, she really wasn’t sure if he would want to see her. He’d obviously moved on and perhaps it was selfish of her to come back into his life like this. Perhaps seeing her again would complicate his life in a way he didn’t deserve to have it complicated. 

She had told him all those years ago that any Lady would be lucky to have him, so how could she possibly be angry with him for doing as she had told him to?

But there was still a part of her that needed to see him. Needed to know that he was happy and well and safe. 

Was he a good Lord? Did the people like him? Did he have the right advisors surrounding him? Had there been threats from those who may not have been too pleased about a low-born bastard being named their new Lord liege?

She’d always managed to push those thoughts away during her travels, however it was impossible to do so now she knew how near he was. Eventually, somehow, she managed to exhaust herself enough to drift off to sleep.

* * *

It was barely past sunrise the next morning when she arrived at the gates of Storm’s End. The tall tower caught her eye immediately and she found herself quietly impressed with the fortress before her. To think of Gendry ruling land like this was quite funny - she could only wish she’d been there to see his face when he himself had first seen his castle.

She saw a few guards outside the castle gates, only one of them noticing her as she slowly approached on horseback. It would have been easy for her to sneak it without anyone at all noticing, but she wanted to at least try and do this the proper way for Gendry’s sake. So, she’d decided to play nice and put his guards to the test. Her first test of how safe he was here.

“Can I help you there, girl?” One of the guards questioned as he stepped forward, eyebrow raised. His tone was as condescending as she’d expected it to be.

“I’m here to see Lord Baratheon,” she replied, her face and voice void of any emotion or hint of her intentions. The men simply laughed arrogantly.

“Lord Baratheon is busy,” another of the men practically spat at her.

“He’ll stop being busy when you tell him I’m here,” she smiled in mock politeness. It was amusing to her, how these men wouldn’t take her seriously. She could kill them all in seconds and they were talking down to her as if she was nothing.

“And who are _you_, hm?” The first guard spoke up again. “Lord Gendry is a very busy man. He doesn’t have time for common whores trying their luck, so try somewhere else.”

“Luckily for you, I’m feeling kind today,” Arya smiled again. “So, I’ll allow you a few hours to decide how you’ll explain this conversation to your Lord before I rip your tongue from your mouth.”

Without another word, she turned on her horse and rode away. 

Of course, she managed to sneak past the very same guards just minutes later. It was no fun, far too easy. Why did nobody know how to get decent bloody guards? 

Once she was within the castle grounds, she spent some time just observing the smallfolk working there. They all seemed busy, most of them looked healthy, and there didn’t seem to be any sort of fear or tension. It seemed a fairly happy place actually - and Arya knew how the Lord could affect his people. These people didn’t seem to live in fear, which meant they didn’t fear him, but they way they worked gave Arya the impression that they respected his authority. 

It made Arya genuinely smile.

She noticed some children happily running around the grounds and couldn’t help but the pang in her chest as she was reminded of her own childhood. The Starks were happy like this once, in fact this place reminded her a lot of the Winterfell she grew up in. 

She wondered what Winterfell was like now and her heart ached for her home. She would have to write to her sister as soon as she could.

It was a familiar voice that brought her back to where she was - Ser Davos. Arya remembered him from the Battle of Winterfell; he was a trusted advisor of Jon’s and she knew he’d helped Gendry more than a few times, so it was no surprise to see him here. He was talking to one of the stupid bloody guards. 

“And this common girl, what did she look like?” Ser Davos asked. Arya knew he was a fairly clever man and he would probably remember what she looked like - even if the image of her in his head was surrounded in darkness and flames and the dead. 

“Small thing, dark hair,” the guard said. “Threatened to rip out tongues.”

“Where did she go?” 

“Just rode off the way she came,” the guard shrugged.

“Get back to the gates - if the girl returns, you let her in and send for me immediately. You understand?”

Arya was already halfway up the tower’s grand staircase before they’d even finished their conversation. She didn’t know where he could be, but she guessed his chambers would be a fairly good place to start at this early hour.

Nobody noticed her as she followed some servant girls, who had handfuls of bed linen and towels. It didn’t take her long to reach the Lord’s chambers, which were situated almost right at the top of the tower.

The servant girl knocked lightly on the door but got no response, so let herself in. The girl had only been in there a few minutes - lighting the fire and running a bath for her Lord, Arya assumed - when Arya heard his voice.

For the first time in five years, she heard Gendry’s voice. And it was utterly pathetic how happy it made her.

He was talking to the maid - of course he’d be the kind of Lord to make polite small talk as someone ran his bath, Arya thought. The young girl appeared at the door again a few minutes later, a massive grin on her face and a rosy blush across her cheeks.

Arya had a feeling the girl didn’t mind running her Lord’s morning baths.

Once the girl was gone, Arya stepped forward to open the door and let it shut loudly enough behind her so that he would hear it.

“Alaynna?” His voice called as he came around the corner. Arya had to hold back a smirk as he froze in his step. 

He looked at her as if he’d seen a ghost. Arya let her eyes fall over him; he looked different. His hair had grown out again, like it had been when they’d first met all those years ago, but tidier now. A bit more styled and proper. 

He looked cleaner too, in comparison to how his skin used to be covered in soot and dirt almost permanently. He didn’t have a shirt on and his top half was almost exactly how she remembered from their night together. 

“Arya,” he eventually managed to breath her name after a few seconds of silence. “What are you...How are you here?”

“Well, your guards are complete idiots so it wasn’t difficult,” she smirked, knowing full well what he meant. Gods, she’d missed him more than she thought.

“That’s not what I meant,” Gendry shook his head, finally walking towards her as if her speaking had made him realise she was actually there. “It’s been years since we last met and now you’re standing in my chambers as if it’s only been days.”

“Is that a problem?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“No, of course not,” Gendry laughed. “Are you well?”

“Yes,” Arya responded. “I just wanted to see you.”

“Really?” His eyes practically lit up, the exact way they had when he’d asked her to be his wife. His eyes hadn’t changed at all and she could still read him like a book. “I’m so glad. Gods, Arya, I’m so glad you’re here.”

Arya smiled, closing the gap between them a bit more. “I wasn’t sure you would want to speak to me. After everything that happened-”

“It doesn't matter,” Gendry interrupted her, reaching for her glove-covered hands. “All that matters is that you’re here. You’re actually here."

“I’m here,” she repeated his words with a grin. 

They stood so close together now and all she wanted to do was kiss him, just like she had the night of the battle. She wanted to be with him again, to hold him, taste him, feel him. She wanted him and she had forgotten just how much. 

But that want was impossible to ignore now, the way he was looking at her as if this moment with her was all he’d been waiting for the past five years. She was completely lost in his eyes, as blue as the sky and as deep as the ocean. 

Then the door swung open.

“Oh - forgive me, my Lord. Lady Arya.”

They pulled away from each other almost instantly as Davos entered. Gendry moved to his bed to quickly put on a shirt and Arya spun round to face Davos with a polite smile.

“Ser Davos,” Arya greeted the older man.

“Apologies for the intrusion, which I can see is all a bit unnecessary now,” Davos explained.

“How do you mean?” Gendry asked.

“Well, I was going to tell you of my suspicions that a particular Stark was sneaking around the castle grounds. You appear to already be aware of that, lad.”

* * *

He had some things to tend to throughout the morning, despite his insistence that he could cancel, he was obviously a good Lord and she convinced him to carry on with his duties.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she’d shrugged nonchalantly, but he didn’t look at all convinced.“I promise.”

She watched him all morning, going about his work as if he’d been doing it his whole life. She could barely believe this was the same man she’d travelled the Riverlands with all that time ago, but that felt like a different life now.

He _was_ the same man though, he was still Gendry. The way he’d look at her when important men were talking to him, the way his lips quirked as he tried to stop himself from smiling when he realised she was looking back. 

“You like it here?” She asked him as he let her into his solar, letting her eyes gaze around the room. Like most of the castle, it was decked out in the Baratheon house colours, black with flashes of gold and carvings of stags.

“I’m used to it now,” he shrugged, the softest smile on his face telling her that he wasn’t always so used to it.

She turned her back to him and her eyes fell to the table, which was covered in books and scrolls. “Do I get to meet her?”

“Who?”

“Your bride,” she said, gliding her hands over one of the scrolls. It was only his name signed on the bottom of the page that made her realise it was his handwriting - tidy, and proper, and so unlike him. 

“My _what!_?” His voice was laced with shock, and when she turned back around, the horrified look on his face only matched. Did he not want her to know he was to have a wife?

“You don’t have to pretend. I know about the betrothal,” She smiled, masking the selfish sadness she felt rising again at the thought of him with another. “I’m happy for you, truly.”

“Betrothal,” he dragged the word out, his eyebrows furrowed together in that confused frown she had missed so dearly. “What betrothal?”

“Yours.”

“Arya, I’m not betrothed.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but her breath got stuck in her throat - she knew liars. He wasn’t one. “You’re not?”

“No, absolutely not,” He let out a laugh, shaking his head as he stepped closer to her. “Why would you think that?”

“I-” she looked down, scolding herself for jumping to conclusions. “I overheard some girls talking at the inn. Guess they were mistaken.”

“I’m an unmarried Lord,” He rolled his eyes, as it was obvious it wasn’t the first time he’d had to correct someone about his marital status. “People have been talking since the day I got here.”

She frowned. He’d been a Lord for years, he’d been here for years. He must have had plenty of offers. “It’s been five years.”

“So?”

“So why haven’t you married?” 

“Because the only woman I’ve ever wanted to marry pissed off to the middle of nowhere.” 

His words were gentle, his voice barely above a whisper. She wasn’t sure when he’d moved so close to her, but she could feel his breath against her skin. 

“Gendry, I-”

“I love you. Nothing’s changed. I love you.”

Arya didn’t hesitate then, reaching up to cup his face and pull him towards her, the way she had done all those years ago. She pressed her lips to his, her heart skipping a beat as she felt his arms snake around her waist. 

If there had been anything left unsaid between them - in the Riverlands, at Winterfell, around the Dragonpit - it was said with the kiss. He was right, nothing had changed, not really. 

No matter how long they had been apart, it was always the same. They always knew. She thought perhaps it was time for her to tell him so.

“I love you too. Always have.”

He leaned down and recaptured her lips again and Arya felt as though her heart was about to burst, it was beating so hard against her chest. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

“I think I have some idea actually,” she bit her lip, and let her eyes flutter closed as he loving pressed his forehead against hers. It felt so right, the way he held her in his arms. “I regretted it, how we left things between us. I regretted not saying goodbye to you.”

“None of that matters now.”

“You weren’t angry with me?” She asked as her hands slid up from his arms to rest against his shoulders.

“Angry with you?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise, not saying anything else for a moment but he laughed. “Thought I was meant to be the stupid one here, my Lady.”

_My lady._ He really was a proper Lord now, she thought.

“I’m serious, _my Lord_,” she mocked, letting her lips curl into a teasing smirk.

“Don’t call me that," he smirked. “I could never be angry with you,” he breathed against her neck, though Arya was far too distracted by the feeling to respond. “It was selfish of me to ask you to marry me like that.”

“It wasn’t selfish.”

Arya forced herself to pull back from his peppered kisses, giving him a tiny shove, and he moved to look at her curiously.

"It was too soon, you weren’t ready then,” Gendry shook his head, and she didn’t necessarily disagree.

“Well if the offer still stands, I’d quite like it if you would marry me now.”

He just stared at her for a moment, seemingly in shock, as if her words weren’t quite reaching his brain. She had to stop herself from laughing, biting down on her lip.

“So, will you marry me?”

She assumed his answer was a yes, judging by how quickly she found herself sat atop the table, all those important scrolls and old books pushed to the solar floor; her legs hooked around his waist as he kissed her with more love and passion than she ever thought possible.

Arya found it quite amusing to think those serving girls at the Inn had technically been right, after all; Lord Baratheon’s betrothed had arrived in Storm’s End. Though, she was his betrothed for just a week before they stood in the Godswood to become husband and wife.

Talk of the first Baratheon - and Stark, they would both point out every time - heir in years came just a month later and those rumours were to be believed. Less than a year into the marriage, as thunder and lighting shook Storm’s End, Arya and Gendry could hear nothing but the piercing cries of their first daughter. The sweetest storm there ever was.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually didn't mean for this to turn into a super self-indulgent fix it fic but that's what it turned into lmao so why not.
> 
> tumblr: lordgendrys


End file.
